So, Ayoub is approaching his terrible two’s, age-wise, and is well within them, behaviour-wise. He’s sweet and adorable, when he wants to be, and an absolute nightmare the rest of the time. I’ve been through this before, with Daoud, so I know what it’s all about. I know it’s developmentally appropriate. I know a lot of his tantrums and frustrations stem for the fact that he wants to tell us things and lacks the verbal skills to do so, or from the fact that he has all these physical skills but no will to reason… Basically, Ayoub might see the road and think “what a great idea, let me run straight out there”, and his little legs will happily take him. So, of course, he’s furious when Mama sweeps in and scoops him off those little legs and back to boredom (aka, safety). This will typically result in 10 minutes of direct screaming into my ears, and I can handle it, really, because I know that’s just what the terrible-two’s are about.
Lately though, I’ve been having a harder time with it, and this comes from the fact that I’m – gasp – jealous of Baba… Ayoub is much, much sweeter with his dad than he is with me… He’ll be in the middle of kicking me in the legs and stomach as I attempt to change his diaper, or screaming directly in my ear as I bring him into the house after daycare, when his dad takes him and his screams and shouts turn into laughter and giggles. Now, it’s not like it happens this way every time, but it does happen more often than not. The latest example was just last night, as we prepped for bed.
First, you need to understand that the usual process of getting ready for bed consists of:
a) Ayoub running from me while I chase him around the house to change his diaper
b) Ayoub beating me up once I actually catch him, while I change him
c) Ayoub kicking and screaming against me as I carry him up the stairs
d) Ayoub taking forever to settle in his room while I attempt to read him his Quran, give him his milk, and give him his pacifier.
Last night, after I changed for Ayoub against his will, as usual, I went to get his milk ready. At this point, he was playing with Daoud on his grandpa’s rocking chair, so I figured he wouldn’t be willing to leave his game and come to sleep. This was the point where I passed the sippy cup and pacifier to Daddy. And… Magic! Ayoub took one look at his dad, crawled down off the rocking chair, and traipsed up the stairs hand in hand with his dad. I stared after him, dumbfounded.
Hubby has been trying to comfort me about this since last night. “You know he loves you more than anyone,” he tells me. I do, I know that. I just want him to love me with cooperation, not anger and screaming. I want to be very clear about something: There is no part of me that wants him to be less cooperative with his dad, I just wish he could find it in him to be more cooperative with me.
Again, this seems to be part of a larger pattern: Ayoub’s daycare provider swears he’s wonderful with her. Daoud’s was the same way. They are good kids; they don’t flip out with others, but something about seeing Mama seems to trigger their frustration. My mother says that I should take this as a compliment, that it stems from their absolute trust of me. She calls it “El ‘ayn el hamra” – translated from Arabic as “the red eye” – as in, they show you the red eye because they love you and they know you’ll love them unconditionally. And I do; and I will. I just wish they wanted to be nicer to me. The niceness would really help.